


Fog and Color

by IntroversionFantasies



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Character Development, Dexter - Freeform, F/M, Murder, Sex, Sociopathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-27 18:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1718681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntroversionFantasies/pseuds/IntroversionFantasies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna Merrit, sociopath and budding murderer, takes an internship at Miami Metro. As the Black grows, she plants secure roots into the hearts of the homicide personnel, including Dexter Morgan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet The Bosses

**Someone is dying, right now. By age, by the hands of another, by accident. Someone is becoming non-existent, whether it be gruesomely, or gently. To most people that must be uncomfortable to think about. People tend to look on the bright-side. My mother used to say every second a person dies, but every two seconds one is born. That still doesn't make sense to me, being honest. If every second a person dies, by the time someone is born, _two_ people have died. By those odds, we wouldn't have overpopulation. Odd saying or not, it doesn't change the fact that death is everywhere. Moment by moment, haunting the past, present, and future. Dwelling in people's shadows.. and lungs. She should stop smoking like that. I suppose all people walk with the cold, sharp, bony hand of the reaper against their necks. Then again, perhaps everyone is actually obsessed with death. That is why people keep track of time, of life expectancies, try to control everything down to the air they breathe. If you know and plan out everything, then death can't creep up on you. Maybe that's why some people make jobs of death. Sitting in the comforting black veil of silence, trying to figure out what death truly is. Pinpointing when a person stops being a person, and why.**

     Her shoes gently patted against the resistance of the concrete. She she was distracted, but softly content. She stared at everything with a mixture of real life and fantasy. She wasn't sure what to wear on her first day, picking a white button up and black jeans to go with her running shoes. The paper said to wear something she could move in, and she walked the entire way just to prove it to herself. She checked her phone and found herself at the doors of Miami Metro ten minutes early. With a smile she made her way into the doors, greeted with the hustling by a large portion of the building.

**Look at all of them. Bright, lively, as if a child colored every single one of their souls. I'm not sure about what a soul is, exactly. To hear my mother tell it, a soul is an energy of consciousness and emotion that fills up a person. I think she's right. You can tell when a person has a soul. Even if they're destitute or angry. They have a color about them. Overall, they seem full.**

"Are you the intern?"

 **Let the show begin.** "Yes ma'am." She said, turning to face the rather formally dressed woman who addressed her. Even though the leopard patterned blouse was distracting, what really caught her attention was the amount of makeup on the woman's face. Even more so that the woman used bold colors. If you didn't focus on it the woman would look decently attractive, but, as far as she was concerned, if you touched her face she was sure half of it would crumble off. The woman held a manilla file in her hands. She was sure it held nothing less than her past.

"LaGuerta, Captain of Miami's homicide division. I pictured you younger."

 **Ah, yes. Every time someone hears the word "intern" they usually picture those young big-eyed girls who look like they just popped out of their mother's wombs.** "Well I am a graduate." She smiled, trying to seem polite as her mind continued to race.

"Right." LaGuerta smiled, but it wasn't very warming. It was that polite smile that exuded appropriate job formality. She was probably very absorbed in her work, but most people are. LaGuerta began to walk and she followed, staying comfortably in the wake of her path as to minimize her disruption of traffic. LaGuerta finally played with the file in her hands, flipping it open. "Merrit, Anna."

**Merrit, Anna. Anna, Merrit. A-M. Am. I am.**

"Four-point-oh, Criminal Justice, and now an internship. You must be very dedicated."

"Since I was eight. My parents noticed something was off when most girls wanted to be princesses for Halloween, I wanted to be Freddy Kruger." **I can still hear my mother whining about having a "lesbian" daughter now. Not sure why wanting to be a murderer made me a lesbian, but I know it made me a disappointment.** Anna smiled, using a light-hearted tone that seemed to entertain LaGuerta as the hallway stretched into eternity. **Gray toned walls, off-white carpeting. There's an emotionless cleanliness about this place hidden between all the pictures and bright colored wood. I think I'd like it better empty. Gray walls, gray carpet, emptiness.**

"Being the Captain, that means you take orders from me, and only me, unless otherwise directed." Her tone became louder. authoritative.

"Yes, ma'am."

"We take care of our own here, so I won't mind conversation, but your work is first priority."

Anna was focused on how the hallway was reaching it's end, opening up to a department room. **I hate this part. More often than not, when someone is being led by the boss everyone looks. Unwanted attention in spades. I prefer my life off the radar.** "Yes, ma'am."

"First, your going to get comfortable with the department, so I'm assigning you to file duty. During the period of which, I am placing you under James's supervision. You will address him as 'Sergeant Doakes' and nothing else." They broke through the opening and Anna peered around. The room seemed a little empty. The best part, she drew no attention. 

"Yes, ma'am." **The award for 'Least Likely to be a Surname' goes to.. Doakes. There is something to be said about people with interesting names. People who have something interesting about them usually face more challenges in youth. They usually develop extreme personalities one way or the other. As horrifyingly boring as 'file duty' sounds, maybe this will be interesting.** Anna was led to a desk where a rather impatient-looking man stood. Unlike LaGuerta, his style was very subtle. Dark brown shirt, dark pants, maybe a tone lighter and it would completely blend into his own skin. Despite his clothes, he still looked very open. Short sleeves, v-neck, not out of the ordinary, but what sold it was the way his shirt was firmly tucked into his pants. It put his build on display. Intimidation, surely. The kind of cop that enjoys chasing down perps. The bloodhound.

"James." LaGuerta spoke, and the apparent 'Sergeant Doakes' answered her by turning his body towards her. Anna turned her attention straight to his eyes. That's where a person truly lies, in their eyes. His eyes were soft towards LaGuerta. **Disappointing, perhaps the bloodhound assumption was wrong.** They, however, became rigid as they fell on Anna. He seemed even more bothered now than before. **Oh, I see. Selective softness. Lovers, no doubt. Based on body language, not currently. Still the bloodhound after all.** Anna kept her smile, staying firmly retracted into her own head. She could still hear the banter back and forth between the two. Besides the argument, they seemed to have a profound respect for each other. 

"I'm not a fucking babysitter, Maria."

"She's an intern, she needs authority. Just show her what to do. I have to go dress for the press."

 **How is that outfit, in any fathomable way, _in_ formal? Maybe ostentatious, or gaudy, but clearly not relaxed.** LaGuerta took her leave, but Anna didn't abandon her post. She only turned to watch LaGuerta walk away. **And thus, Daisy Buchanan left Gatsby alone once again.** She turned back to Doakes's gaze. It felt like pressing her face against a wall.

"What the fuck are you smiling about?"

"Just excited to be here."

"So murder excites you." His tone got harsher, analytical. She got the feeling he was testing her reaction to being skeptisized. 

"No," **Yes.** "Puzzles do. First day adrenaline." 

The answer seemed to sate him in some way, but he stared at her for a second longer before turning away. It could also be that he didn't want to be bothered with the air Anna breathed for a second more. Either way, she chalked up a small victory and followed him as he threw a slew of files her way. "You're going to take these to Figg, she organizes the files. You see any files in the "completed" basket on an officer's desk, you bring it to Figg. If an officer hands you a file, you bring it Figg. If a file falls on the damn floor and no one is picking it up, you bring it to Figg."

"Yes, sir." **Figg. Fiiiiiiiigg. F-eeii-gg. How many times is he going to say 'Figg' exactly. Or 'file' for that matter? Secondly, whats with the thin-ish mustache? He must have grown it in recently. That, or he's obsessed with grooming and tweezing it until it barely matches the criteria for 'full'.**

"Just because I have actual work to do doesn't mean I wont be able to see you slacking off. An internship is a courtesy given to you by the department. If I even _think_ you're half-assing your work, I'll be the first one to escort you out. We don't need any more rubberneckers here."

"Yes, sir." **Threats were always dead to me. Call me naive, insensitive, or fearless. Calling me anything would be pretty good feedback on whether or not I'm showing any kind of humanity. Even Doakes has a soul, though his color is a little dark. A rigid color. Probably brown, seeing as he wears enough of it. Personally to me, he just seems to be filled with a dark orange. LaGuerta on the other hand, white. Not purity but, sass, power. I suppose white is the color of leadership, but it can be gentle. Unlike Doakes, she smiled at me at one point. I guess that leaves me, so far. Colorless, empty. If I could relate it, I suppose I could consider myself a light gray. You can color over light gray with almost any color and it would still be tainted. Like a fog filling up my body with just enough pressure so that I don't crumple up like a beer can on the street and display my lack of substance to the world. Yet not giving in to the only color conceivably able to hide light gray; black. At least, not right now. Not to the public eye. Black is something I take care of in my own way. Don't get excited or worry, now. It's not anything unusual for dealing with emptiness.**

 Doakes's words continued to smack and roll off of her like water off a ducks back. Not that she didn't listen, she simply had no feelings for them one way or the other. It's a formality for the 'scariest' cop in the place to cement his place in the minds of the new with harsh words. After seeing how his eyes softened to 'Maria' it was hard to think of his forceful personality as anything more as a sub-phylum of the 'Alpha Male Complex'. She reached the half-door of the records room, and nearly stumbled over the amount of color inside. The woman, whom she could only label as Figg, kept her desk colorful and cluttered with decoration. While the color was nice, the sheer amount of space taken over by inconsistently placed items gave Anna a near painful tightening sensation at the bottom of her lungs. She directed her gaze to the shelves. How beautiful they were. Organized, neat. With one manilla folder, the color can seem quite dull. But with thousands, all their differently colored labels, it created a cream-yellow secured backbone for a rainbow. She wanted to step inside that room, and never leave it.

"Who is this?" Figg's entire existence exuded the same color as those beautiful folders. Cream. 

"Intern. Started today. Keep her out of trouble, if possible." Doakes didn't seem to relax around Figg. **_Very_ selective compassion.** Figg smiled, but not in the way of LaGuerta. There was a country-home warmness to it, an invitation. Anna didn't need any more than that. She passed through the door and took every order Figg gave. Anna acted quickly, accompanying her actions with a 'yes, ma'am'. **Even more beautiful up close.** Wrapped in an entire library of color. It was intoxicating, almost orgasmic. The color bounced on the outside of her skin, begging entrance to fill her up and replace the fog with wholesomeness, a soul. The most powerful emotion in her toolbox at any time was dulled contentment. Yet, surrounded by all this color, something clawed at her insides. A near invisible manifestation of life, whispering promises of happiness. She fixed her analytical, focused expression to one with a smile. Acting out happiness as she thumbed over the archives, slipping folders into their place gently. **_Feeding_ the color.** As she moved to the corners of the archives, she found herself alone with one last file. She stared at it hungrily, knowing the most filling of colors was just inside. **Just one moment. A look, a glance. One second to breathe it in before it's gone forever.** She flipped it open, making sure that even the air made no sound around it. **Look at it. It's Pulchritude. It's majesty! In the wisdom of Bram Stoker 'the blood is the life'!** A collection of the most gorgeous photos, side by side. The hemoglobin and oxygen love affair that decorated the scene like a canvas-less exhibit of modern art. She could nearly smell blood in the photos, the faint scent that your nose picks up right after you have nicked yourself in the shower almost before it starts to bleed. That warm iron smell. Red, scarlet red, dark blue-red, all the shades of her favorite most sought after color. She would bathe in red if she could. In such a plentiful manner as to make even Elizabeth Bathory would look upon her with envy.

 _Ding._ "Doughnut?"

She shut the folder, gently placing it as she heard the miserable half door open and shut.

"You keeping your fingernails clean?"

"Never leave home without my rubber gloves!"

"Good boy."

Anna gently crept nearer, hidden by the color and the air. The way his voice contrasted Figgs, the smooth lubricant of emotion behind the syllables was lost in his speech. A monotonous undertone. Almost uncomfortable to the ear.

"So, anything new?"

Anna peered through the gap as Figg's chair rolled, finding a man in a blue button down placing his police pass over his head to hang around his neck. He sat back as Figg handed him a thick folder, but maintained her grip on it, speaking to him. Anna wasn't concerned with the petty conversation anymore. She was concerned with his eyes. Opened wider than normal, unrelaxed, intense. His speaking, his eyes, there was no denying it. Desperately holding back a secret, wearing a mask. His facial expressions, his smile, just off enough. They seemed strained. If she truly had a heart, it would probably be beating into her throat. Light gray. Empty. The way he got up and walked away, there was almost no denying it. At least, not to her. It seemed she had a new focus. **Just how dark are you to cover yourself so 'convincingly'? How incredibly..interesting.**

    "You should put those eyes back in your head before they pop out." Figg chuckled warmly. Anna hadn't realized it, but her small dissection and curiosity of the man had baited her into sight. She showed her only sincere facial expression, curiosity, prompting an answer. Figg sat back, acknowledging her, but only stared for a moment. Anna felt uncomfortable. **She's thinking. Deciding what to say to me. Have I done something already to earn her distrust? But, if so, what?** All this time she believed she put on a skilled facade, did this woman really see through it so quickly? "My husband and I were close friends of the Morgan's. Harry was-god rest him-a great detective and a charming man." **Oh thank god, it was only grief.** "Thankfully we still have some pieces of him here. That was Harry's son." 

"Oh. I'm so sorry." Anna dropped her shoulders, slumping just slightly and looking back to the hallway. She couldn't remember if this was how you showed sorrow or disappointment. Slumping was crucial, she knew. Either one would seem to work in this case, she supposed.

"Oh don't let it affect you too much, it was some years ago. Harry's daughter also works here." Figg smiled again. **Maybe a little too convincing.** Anna thought, dissatisfied, but didn't move. **Well over is always preferred to under, but dammit, I should have this down by now.** She finally looked back to Figg and nodded, returning a "sincere" smile. This one she knew. She had to force herself to have crows feet by squishing her cheeks up. With the smile completed she dissipated back into the files. **Maybe I should have said something. 'Sorry I have a lot of empathy?'..No, too big of a lie to pull off. The best way to lie is to at least have a half truth in it. After all, doing it that way seemed to win over the bloodhound, and that's significant. 'I don't like to see others in pain?' ..Yeah, that should have been it. I never know how to react in those situations. Case in point, this. _Then again_ , she said it happened years ago. _He_ especially wasn't in pain, or else didn't look it. So perhaps 'I don't like to think of others in pain?'. Still seems like too much of a lie. Then again, seeing people grovel and whine makes me angry. Yeah, that's it then. If it comes up again, 'I don't like to think of others in pain,' but if they are actually leaking in the face 'I don't like to _see_ others in pain'. Yet, Figg's smile was genuine. She seems like the kind of person to cherish thoughtfulness and emotion. Perhaps her smile showed comfort? I hope so. To think a slip up may have granted me a 'friend' already? That's a rather impressive first.**

"How long have you been in here?" The authoritative voice. LaGuerta. Anna turned around quickly, being wrenched out of her thoughts. She vomited out the first sentence that came to her.

"Not very long." **Shit, has it been long? If this comes across as a lie, I can say goodbye to ever gaining her trust. I did so well with her a moment ago.**

"She's just helping me out with some files Doakes sent me. She's a sweetheart." Figg's voice became louder, giving Anna the impression she was facing her direction. **The luck of the Irish.**

"She shouldn't be handling files." LaGuerta sighed, but not in an angry fashion. Defeated perhaps? Bothered, but understanding. "Merrit, come with me."

"Yes, ma'am." Anna worked her way to the front of the records room. Her emptiness seemed to intensify as she moved away from the color. LaGuerta motioned her out of the room, signaling for Anna to follow her. Anna took a glimpse back at Figg who smiled in her direction. Anna gave a thankful wave but quickly moved into the shadow of her new master. She smirked, LaGuerta was wearing white now. **How funny. I pegged her as white, she must relate to that color herself.** LaGuerta led her to a woman in a blue uniform. The woman's hair was tied up, Her bangs falling in front, touching her eyebrows. The sheer amount of bangs surprised her. **She has a long, thin face. I've never seen that before. Her face is like a pin.** Anna got an overwhelming desire to put her hands on the top of the woman's head and chin and try to squish it to ideal proportions. Her eyes were big though, that was comforting.

"Seeing as you're newly on the case, I'm placing our new intern in your care. She'll be able to see all the first steps to take, first hand." LaGuerta smiled and already began to walk away without getting a reply from the woman, but that didn't seem to stop her.

"Are you fucking serious--" The woman clearly wrestled with some pent up negative feelings about LaGuerta, starting a series of movements and stopping half way. The woman finished her half-fit by smoothing her hands over her hair and turning her attention to Anna. "Hi."

"Hi." Anna smiled, she didn't have to hide her amusement.

"Uh, my name is Deb." Deb stood awkwardly, unknowing on how to better approach the situation.

"Anna."

"Right." Deb stared at Anna for a small while. It made Anna want to laugh. It was almost as if Deb expected her to make the first move. She took it.

"So far I've been working with files, do you have any paperwork to deal with?"

"Yes! Yes I do, I'll show you how to take care of that." Deb smiled and relaxed, moving almost energetically now that there was a 'plan' in place.

"Sounds good." Anna smirked as Deb turned her back. Out of all the people she'd met so far she found Deb the least unfavorable. She would probably like Deb if she could like anything, Deb already amused her. She followed Deb, using the opportunity to better observe her surroundings. This time the room was fuller, she saw new faces and they acknowledged her. She got a smile from a man with a standard goatee, a blue collared shirt, and an oddly patterned dark tie. Anna returned it and managed to catch a glimpse of 'Harry's Son' spinning around in a chair. **I have never been more confused in my life. Maybe he's not what I think he is. I guess he's just a man-child. Whoever heard of someone empty inside dicking around in a spinning chair?** It wasnt long until the bloodhound was on top of him, looking incredibly agitated. **Good luck with that, Harry's Son.**

"Okay, so..here we are." Deb took her place at an empty desk.

"How come your name isn't on your desk?"

"Well, I'm not on homicide yet, I'm just-- on the fast track to be. Let's get into this shit first!" **I like Deb. Her swearing, indefatigable, her impatience. She entertains me. She's the kind of person you would wonder how in the hell they ever got hired. Officers and Detectives have reputations to uphold, you know. They have to looks scary. Intimidate civilians but be nice. All of them have to be bloodhounds and chihuahuas all at once.** Anna followed Deb's instructions carefully, before long she was practically filling them out herself. There's something relaxing about forms. Especially copies of forms. Filling them out, same lay out, slight deviations in information. Repetition. Nothing makes you feel like you have control quite like repetition, and with all the erratic tossing around from person-to-person, Anna could use it. "You pick up like fucking Rain Man, don't you?" Deb laughed.

"Definitely." Anna smirked, making Deb laugh a little louder.

"Well don't move. I'm fucking starving." Deb smiled and promptly left Anna in the dust, filling out forms. She heard footsteps approaching her and looked up for a moment to see 'Harry's Son' passing. She locked onto him has her pen continued to scratch into the paper, but he didn't seem to acknowledge her existence. **Even better. It's easier to figure people out from the background. I wonder how the processes of piecing together Harry's Son should start. Public records perhaps? Probably nothing. Mostly criminals there. Court transcripts, maybe. They handle quite a few things. As a Detective he must have been in a courtroom at some point. If all else fails I could access the data bases here. I'd need a pass code, a scape goat--** A small squeak made her arise out of her thought bubble, making her realize she had been swiveling about in the spinny chair. She stopped, planting her feet firmly on the ground. **I judged too soon.**  
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>=====<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<  
    Late Friday night. **The best part of not being paid is being able to stay as long as you want and nobody truly cares.** Anna still sat at the empty desk near the back of the room where Deb had led her. Deb had come and gone, she heard snippets of conversation and names, mostly of victims and leads. Now she sat alone, admiring the place. She had been instructed that she was not to be left alone. She would have to leave the department if there was no longer a single homicide detective in the room, and of course the record room was off limits. She sat back in the swiveling chair, beginning the recap of her day. **White, LaGuerta. Enjoys personal stories and/or business. Image is very important. Though professional, seems to both advocate and enjoy drama. Case in point, apparently pissing off Deb. Dark orange, Doakes. Huh, how funny. Dark Orange, D-O, Doakes, D-O-akes. The bloodhound. Selective emotional involvement, rugged and insincere to others. Seems to have a specific interest in Harry's Son. Cream, Figgs--No, Figg. No 's'. Very concerned with the emotions of others. A mother's agenda, like an olden times housewife. Included family within simple questions, enjoys emotional contact. All of that color..** Anna's hands almost began to shake as she remembered it, the sheer amount of warm, varied frequency, light. It felt like heaven in that room. Suddenly being here, without it, she felt like she had a rusty shovel shoved into her gullet. Nausea, her feet began to wiggle, suddenly the silence began to overwhelm her. She felt panic set in. She hunched over and breathed deeply. This wasn't just the color. She could feel the black beginning to grow in her bones. She needed that color. **White, Dark Orange, Cream. White, Dark Orange, and Cream. Deb..What color is Deb?** Her body began to calm and her breathing slowed. **Deb was full, but what color? Frustration, energy, fear of disappointment. To warm for blue. Too full for blue. Her color seeps out of her. Intense language, intense emotion. Even simple things spark a powerful reaction, even if it is brushed off. Not red or orange. Too friendly, too open for a red or orange. What color is Deb.**

"Hey!" Another male voice, all these interruptions were only agitating her more. "I got a date tonight." He was a shorter man, staying at the corner of the hallway in-between coming and leaving.

"Uh, good?" Anna was confused on why a random man was telling her random tales from his apparent love life.

"You're not going to ask who it's with?"

"Alright, who?" Anna said, deciding to humor him.

"You, me, and my close friend Ms. Chardonnay." He smirked, showing interest in her. Anna looked to the desk, understanding why LaGuerta had been insistent on her leaving earlier. **Time to go.**

"Don't take this personally, but I'm already involved with someone." Anna stood up, tidying up the desk until it looked as empty as when she first sat in it.

"Is it another girl?"

"No." Of all the time's Anna had ever been an 'interest', the conversation never went down this kind of path.

"Guess that means we can't make this work." He frowned, seeming truly disappointed. Something about his expression actually entertained her, making her smile. Once she finished her tidying, she walked towards him, inevitably passing him as he stayed with one foot on either side of the corner, peering out from either direction.

"You get points for originality, at least." Anna said, amused.

"Those points build!" The man called after her. Anna shook her head and kept walking. "Something else builds!" He yelled, a little more sly, indicating sexual innuendos. Anna found herself actually silently chuckling to his calls, but proceeded out the door and back onto the streets of Miami. She walked a few steps but kept her ear tilted, wondering if he was persistent enough to shout at her one last time, but the sticky-warm Miami air kept incredibly still. Anna kept her eyes on the open, black sky. She could feel the black spreading through her bones. It felt like it made her twitch as she walked. She felt soft agitation in her teeth and fingernails. She looked to the orange lit sidewalk and tried to push the black into the corners of her mind. It was no use. She had broken her routine as soon as she decided to walk to the Metro. The black fed on that lack of control ravenously. She needed a release. She concentrated on her breathing, but it didn't help. The silence carried the black into her clenched teeth, her ears, her pupils, until she could feel the buzzing wiggling into the cracks in the top of her brain, spreading down the back and the front until it was just behind the back of her nose, tickling the skin. It continued to spread down the back of her throat, she felt raw, she felt like she couldn't breathe. She took out her phone and quickly dialed, stopping in her tracks as the black, buzzing emptiness began to take her over bit by bit, wiggling into every cell.

"Heeyy.." that soft, playful male voice. 

"Hey, Noah. I-uh," she tried to think, the buzzing made it impossible. All of her thoughts went empty.

"Baby, are you okay?"

"Yeah, no I'm fine I just need--" she laughed a little anxiously. "I need a ride."

"You're out on the street this late? Where are you." So concerned, she could feel his color through the phone. Dandelion yellow.

"I'm at the police station, at Miami Metro, maybe a block away."

"I'll be right there. Stay in visible sight, go back to the station if you need to." This concern was deeper than usual. There was a faint hustle over the phone, signifying a hurry.

"Noah you don't have to rush--"

"I'm already on my way, just stay safe. Actually just stay on the phone with me."

"You cant be on the phone and drive. That's endangering everyone." She didn't like this. The clinging, the concern, his emotions ran so deep for her. She never understood why it made her angry, but it made the black spread faster. "Just hurry, please." Anna hung up and bit her tongue. It felt like it was nearly vibrating. Her head was pounding. The panic began to set in deeply, a harsh undertone. It had never been this bad before. Was it the new surroundings? The color? The lack of control?

By the time Noah's red SUV had screeched to a halt at the police station, Anna found herself on the sidewalk, feeling as if she were unable to stand. She pushed herself up and quickly opened the door, her mind being only static. She closed the door hastily and looked to Noah. His color nearly washed over her, he looked like a god. His face contorted in a relieved smile. He had near black, shaggy hair that began to curl a little at the ends, resting at the exact middle of his neck. He was growing it out for her. His eyes looked so incredibly bright compared to his hair, a light midnight blue. They seemed to suck in the darkness and only show the light. His narrow, straight, slightly upturned celestial nose paved the perfect pathway to his uneven and soft lips, shaped in that relieved gawk. His smile made him look impish, mischievous, and perfect to give Anna her release. He said something to her, but the buzzing in her head made it almost impossible to hear. She rested her hand on the side of his face, staring at his sudden perfection, before gently pressing her lips to his. His kiss felt wet, but inviting. He put the car in park as Anna sat up, nearly getting on her knees in her seat in order to lean in, pressing in as close as the seat divider would allow. He didn't move his hands, but pressed back into the kiss softly. The buzzing in Anna's head slowly began to quiet as she held the kisses longer, wanting more of him. She felt his tongue sheepishly brush against her lip and the buzzing quickly numbed. The black created an anxious energy deep within her, and she gently brushed back, luring the shy Noah's tongue to teasingly play with hers. As the buzzing in her head quieted, she retracted and sighed in a very small, nearly insignificant amount of relief.

"Uh.." Noah mumbled quietly, gripping into the wheel and the gear shift. He hesitantly put it into 'drive' and let the car roll back to the designated speed limit as Anna put on her seat belt.

"You'll spend the night at my house." Anna nearly panted. It wasn't up for discussion. The emptiness was swallowing her up. She felt like she was suffocating.

"Okay." Noah nearly whispered, timid but happy as always.

   Anna gritted her teeth the entire ride home. The buzzing slowly increasing, making each street, each block, an eternity. Noah captained his SUV smoothly through the neighborhood, pulling behind her own car in a tidy stone driveway. In front lay a small rambler house. Anna quickly popped out of the SUV, shutting the door hastily behind her as Noah ever-so-sensibly stepped out. Anna rounded the front of the vehicle and grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulling him inside like some kind of clueless puppy. She quickly unlocked the door and pulled him inside before releasing him to shut and re-lock it behind them. Noah's back bumped against the narrow hallway that framed the entryway, creating a tiny foyer before opening up to the rest of the living room. Anna was quick to go back on the offense, allotting only a split second to get her shoes off before pressing her body against him, trapping him in her own tiny plane of the house. Noah leaned down just enough to resume the inviting, playful kiss they had begun in the SUV. Anna pulled away from him a little, bringing him away from the wall and simultaneously breaking the kiss. She got a little rough, pushing him back to the wall, making him let out a quiet sigh-like grunt as Anna quickly began to push off his shirt. Noah took her lead and quickly stripped it off of himself, letting it fall to the floor. Anna kept him pressed against the wall, half-an-arm's length away from him as the buzzing quieted again, and paused.

    Noah was, in classy terms, an ectomorph. He was tall and slender. Anna had a slight obsession with the word "average" and Noah fit the build. He was at the perfect borderline of skinny-fat, with just enough muscle definition to outline each section his body formed into. The best part, his skin was smooth and bare. Anna softly ran her fingers across his chest, spreading them like stars as she admired his normalcy, his perfection. Her ears almost twitched as she suddenly became aware of a very soft sound. Noah was panting, melting ever slowly into the tingle of her fingertips tracing down his skin. He kept his hands pressed against the wall behind him as if he were some kind of prisoner. **A toy. My toy.**

    Anna hungrily looked over the light, tidy flesh of her plaything and smirked. She pressed in close, clawing at him gently as she found the button of his pants and tugged it loose. Noah towered over a little, his sheer height making them a slightly troublesome pair as Anna still had to elevate herself up onto her toes. She retraced up his softly muscular frame like a snake, slipping a hand to the back of his neck and burying her fingers into his dark mane in order to grip into it. Noah's lips parted very slightly as a tiny reaction to the pressure, letting Anna gently sink her teeth into his bottom lip for a moment, asserting a half-hearted playful but full-hearted dominant gesture. Noah's hands found her waist in return, gradually tightening his grip to communicate both submission but intense desire. Anna rewarded him by keeping the grip on his hair and using the rim of his pants like a rein, leading his hips to match hers as she began to slowly and roughly grind into him. Noah let out a soft, brief, nearly single-noted whine in his sigh as Anna continued to feel the outline of the true subject of her "affections" with her hips. Noah put some pressure into his grip, planting his soft lips against her neck, starting at the base and working his way up. Anna caught herself making her own near-whine sigh as his breath brushed against her neck and even tickled her ear slightly during his trail of kisses. She arched just enough to let him know he had not yet crossed his boundaries, but afterwards unexpectedly separated from him. She walked towards her bedroom, unbuttoning her shirt and leaving Noah at the wall, beginning to starve before he quickly caught up to her. 

    Once in the bedroom Anna pushed Noah back until his knees hit the edge of the bed and buckled, making him fall onto it. He pushed himself further onto the bed, but was barely able to fully rest on it before Anna had stripped her pants and panties off, crawled over him and straddled him. Noah pressed his hips up, elevating her as he struggled to pull his pants off. Anna smirked as his body bent and twisted, firmly keeping her place on top of him, shirt open and bra showing, in order to watch him squirm. This was one of her top favorite ways to see him. Desperate, a little insecure, clumsy. She felt a deep calling inside of her stomach as Noah's monster finally sprung free from its binding. This was it, the subject of her release. She wrapped her hands around it, testing the resistance of his thick, dripping, color gun with a small squeeze and a slow stroke. Noah gradually arched as she got closer to the tip, letting out a quiet groan before Anna quickly set herself into place.

   "No touching, or I'll stop." Anna grinned, and with a push of her hips buried Noah deep inside of her. Noah groaned at the same time as Anna mewled. She felt a well of electricity burst and cut through the black as this hard trembling thing pressed and stretched the walls of her velvet opening. Anna tilted her head back as she began to ride Noah at a rough pace, dragging out every action as much as possible, savored being liberated from the black piece by piece. She worked her own body like a machine, taking advantage of Noah's piston and slashing away at the black with every slam against her cervix. Noah gripped into the sheets, squirming slightly and moaning as he struggled to stay still and give into Anna's demands. Anna arched and picked up her pace, panting hard and smirking as she monitored the changes and reactions in Noah's groans and expressions. This was her favorite way to see him. He was blushing, helpless, letting out a soft whine as she took advantage of him. She had complete control. As shy as delicate Noah was, it didn't compare to how feeble and meek he became when he was dependent on her for pleasure. She moaned loudly and began to use his body selfishly, as a toy to help her near her own succession. Noah's groans got significantly and gradually louder, almost pleading, giving her chills.

    It wasn't very long until Noah's knuckles went practically white, and Anna began to feel a soft pulsing within her own body. The feeling accelerated her own finish, feeling the deep, tightening, fluttering that signified the edge. She could feel the black floating out of her body, accompanied by that light gray mist that kept her true nature hidden. As a final act of manipulation she slowed her pace to a near crawl, depriving the passive creature with what he needed the most. Noah let out a begging cry that hit just the right note somewhere deep inside Anna's body, making her start a near vicious pace as the throbbing became more intense. With one last forceful push, Anna was submerged in a blinding light, vaporizing what was left of the black and making her cry out blissfully. Noah finally broke the 'no-touch' rule and gripped into her hips, forcing her to tread lightly at the base as he filled her up with color. Anna leaned over him and let out a heavenly whimper as she felt the warm presence of, what she presumed was, the closest she'd ever get to having a soul. She was sated, for now, but for safe measure she would keep Noah present during the weekend. After all, she wasn't truly 'assigned' to go back to work until Monday. She could simply wear him out Saturday before heading to the courthouse to find out more information about 'Harry's Son'. "You broke the rule." Anna grinned, almost disappointed.

"I'm sorry." Noah's voice was still soft, half-faded, his grip only now beginning to soften.

"You'll make up for it." Anna breathed, letting out a nearly corrupt snicker.


	2. His Name Is Dexter

       Anna strummed her fingers over the files, slightly frustrated with herself. Between all the color, the black, and Noah, she'd forgotten the last name Figg had uttered to her. All she remembered was M. The problem was, there were hundreds of files of a 'Harry M.' in the system. Between sketchy traffic violations to mass murdering, 'Harry M' seemed to be a busy name. **If I see it, I'll know it. MacDonald, Mack, Marsh..** She looked over name after name, letting her eyes glide over them. "This is taking too long." She muttered. She let her mind go blank for a moment and then came to a startling revelation. Her fingers stopped thumbing through the files and instead rubbed various surfaces on her face. **I can't believe I'm so stupid. I forgot to apply the 'deceased' filter.** Anna begrudgingly found her way back to the electronic court catalog and had to re-enter her entire search, now with a new filter on top of several others. Though her frustration grew, she felt increasingly more at ease watching names dwindling from the list one by one, or section by section. Thankfully, the deceased filter narrowed down her list of subjects to a near thirty-five or so. She printed the list and headed back to the file cabinets to resume her search.

**I wonder if Noah is still asleep. I didn't make the night easy for him... or this morning. I have to say, sex for pleasure is a much different sensation that sex out of necessity.** She began to remember the feeling of the black setting in, how intensely it had grind it's way into her bones. It made her feel sick to her stomach and grimace. She took a deep breath, and suddenly realized just how quiet it was in the room. She could almost hear her own heart beating, making her feel on edge. Silence usually marked the starting point of terrible things, she had evidence of that from her childhood. The first thing that came to mind was the silence that always predated the sounds of her mother trying out a new 'friend' in a nearby room. **I wonder how that would ever sound to a therapist. When you're a little out-of-place, it's always something in childhood, right? What would I say? Where would I even begin? 'I didn't have a bad childhood. I was born into a happy family. My mother and father loved eachother unconditionally during my conception and birth. My mother even cut all ties with her nicotine-addicted friends so that she wouldn't have to worry about me inhaling second-hand smoke as a child. As my father used to say, if my pacifiers even hovered over the ground, or any other toy I was known to put in my mouth for that matter, my mother would boil it on the spot.'**

Anna had unknowingly stopped almost all functions. She simply sat in silence, trying to find out when she had begun to feel empty. She remembered being surrounded by family, being taken out to do fun activities, she even remembered saying 'I love you' as a child. A cluster of words that now sounded so foreign, it almost made her feel queasy that she might had once meant them. Then again, she was always repeating her mother or father. They loved her, there was no doubt. **I suppose some people are just born empty. Soulless in a world of color.** Anna blinked and brought herself back to the task at hand, re-thumbing through her new list. **Moran. Moreno.** She tried to focus. They sounded so close, Moran more than anything, but not quite right. Then suddenly she saw it, and it resounded like the echo of a bullet in her ears. **Morgan.** She was equally ecstatic and disappointed. A baker's dozen of deceased 'Harry Morgan's lay before her. She sighed and took the files for herself, making sure not to mix them up and marked the place she had withdrawn them from. She set her work on a nearby table and sat down, staring at the pile in front of her. How beautiful it was. The normalcy of the name 'Harry Morgan'. The popularity of this simple cluster of eleven letters was truly admirable. This kind of hassle is the reason she loved the name 'Anna' so much. She had never been the one-and-only Anna anywhere. She was able to blend in with the background with a name like 'Anna'. 'Merrit' on the other-hand, as her research showed, was one of the more unlikely of surnames. The breach in her otherwise perfect, average, lifestyle. She contemplating changing her last name to something more common. Perhaps 'Smith' would do. **Smith, Anna. Anna, Smith. A-S. As. As I?**

She took the top folder off the pile and cracked it open. Packet after packet of court room transcripts lay inside, each with their own codes and serial numbers. Luckily, the cover page on top of each transcript was able to indicate what each court case was about. She took a sharp intake of breath, glad she didn't have to look up each serial number separately. "Failure to Appear in Court. Might be a long shot, but might be worth skimming through." As transcript after transcript passed through her hands, Anna unknowingly invested hours of her time sorting and skimming through each of the folders. Down to the last three files, she sat back in the chair and forcefully blew air from her lips. Doubt had long since crept in, making her skeptical if there was any real trace of her sought-after 'Harry Morgan' within the courthouse. **Is it possible for a person to have a squeaky-clean court archive? No car accidents, no detesting a parking ticket, not so much as a visit of some kind?** She sat, staring at the ceiling, her eyes beginning to sting in the under-powered light. She closed them and breathed in the silence before her phone began it's soft serenade.

_Listen to the music of the moment, baby sing with me._ **Noah.** She remembered how adamant he was that she use this specific ring-tone for him. He has even purchased it for her and set it himself.

_I love peaceful melody. It's your god forsaken right to be love, love, love, loved._ She supposed it was meant to be one of those offerings of affection. Most people buy their significant others jewelry, or chocolates, or stuffed animals. She didn't appreciate 'gift' holidays. She didn't appreciate 'gifts' in general. All a gift really entitles is the non-negotiable requirement to show some kind of affection in return. A closeness, or some sort of clinging notion of mutual empathy. All a gift is, in her book, is an unnecessary remnant of an inclusion in her life. Usually a completely pointless inclusion. She could say 'love' all she wanted, but all she felt was fog. A numb buzz where emotions should otherwise remain. Before she realized how long she had been thinking, the song had long since ended then restarted for a second time. She sat up and put the phone up to her phone, answering it.

"Hey, Noah."

"Oh good, you're okay!" He had traces of panic and worry in his otherwise playful tone.

"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well--! I don't know. I just woke up, and you were gone. I thought maybe you went on a food run, but then you were gone for an hour. So then I thought, well she'll probably be home any minute, and then another hour passed, and there's a killer on the loose and I just didn't know--"

"He kills hookers."

"Huh?" He stopped sharply, having heard the echo of her voice midway through his confession. "I said he kills call girls, Noah. Street walkers? Prostitutes?" "Well--yeah, but--you know what I mean."

"Tha~at..I'm a prostitute?" She said, with non-sarcastic curiosity.

"OH! Oh god no-I didn't-all I mean is-well he-or I mean she-it-the guy-he-they-well killers are unpredictable and--" Anna bit her lip to keep from laughing. He seemed more panicked now than when he started. All his words mixed up in a frenzy of miscommunication and desperation. "I'm sorry."

"I'm doing some research at the courthouse. I thought I would be back before you woke up."

"Oh." There was a sudden pause over the line. Anna was unsure of what to make of it. "Well, do you want me to bring you a lunch, or some coffee?" His tone brightened slightly.

"I had to use my internship to get back here. I don't want to go all the way back through security, and you won't be able to get in."

"Oh." There was another, longer pause. Anna scrunched up her face into an amused but confused look. Noah broke the silence with a quieter, more shy, tone. "Well, I miss you." The words enveloped Anna in an awkward void, mulling over her list of rehearsed responses before switching ears.

"I only have three files left. We can get lunch when I get back. You are staying, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah! Yeah, of course. If you want me to, that is. I don't mind--you know. House-sitting. What are you researching anyway? Something important?"

"If it wasn't important I wouldn't be here, Noah." **Important to me, anyway. I still have nothing on Harry's Son.**

"Right--" Noah laughed nervously over the phone. "Right, of course it is. Uhh--" another brief pause, "So I'll see you when you get back. Maybe we should try that new Mexican place that opened up, huh?"

"Which one?" Anna was serious, but Noah laughed. Apparently she had made a joke she was unaware of, but she was glad her seriousness could come across comically.

"I know, right? Uh--well I'm not sure where it is, I just know how to get there. So, when you come back I'll drive and then we'll get lunch together." **I'll ignore how the previous statement made no logical sense at all.**

"Sounds like a plan."

"Alright." His tone changed, more soft and affectionate. "I love you." Anna's throat seized up for a moment.

"I love you, too." Emptiness.

She hung up and set her phone down. **Why does 'love' have to be so demanding and complicated. You have to go out, you have to say mushy phrases, you have to be physically intimate. Most of the time, not even in the sexual way. Just randomly smacking your face together gently and sucking on the other individual's mouth.** She sighed, looking over at the files. **Might as well get it over with.** She picked up the next folder and set it down in-front of her, opening it up. She felt a stirring inside of her chest. **Here he is. Detective Harry Morgan.** She grinned widely, like a cat who had just sunk its fangs into a juicy rat. Her prize was within these forms and transcripts. She was sure of it. She picked through the file, finding nothing incriminating, but something monumental. "Family Law." She thanked whatever god had created formalities, and leaned back in her chair, letting out a small squeal of potential victory and excitement. She calmed her breathing as she looked over the form, flipping to the first page. She could almost hear the judge's structured, by-the-books voice reading the name in her head.

**Dexter. His name is Dexter.**

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>=====================<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Anna picked at her tortilla with her fork, shredding it into thin layers as she scraped her way into the burrito. Ever since she had found the name, her mind swarmed it with different accents and interpretations. **Morgan, Dexter. Dexter, Morgan. D-M. Dex-tEr Morgan, Dexter MORE-gan.**

" _Merci, madahm._ " Noah said in a scratchy, comical tone. Anna looked up to see him balancing a spoon on his upper-lip. Seeing her gaze upon him, he straightened up, sending the spoon clattering to the floor. "Dangit.." Noah smiled goofy at her as he slipped under the table trying to reach it. Anna knew he had accomplished his goal when the table suddenly jumped with a thud. "Ow." Anna laughed and Noah wiggled back into his seat, smiling at her. "Good, I thought you were just going to have that frown on your face forever."

"I wasn't frowning." Anna smirked, she actually wasn't sure she knew how to frown.

"Yes you were, you frown every time you space out and start thinking. What was it about?"

"That's classified."

"Euwh, police stuff." Noah smiled bigger, crinkling up his nose.

"Actually, it's _Detective_ 'stuff'."

"Well, _Detective_ , you think you can help me find my girlfriend's smile? It's priceless to me."

"I think you've been eating too much _cheese._ " She smiled, shaking her head.

"Actually I'm more of a ham." Noah grinned. "Come on, you can't tell me anything? Is it action packed? Will the mob be after me if you tell?"

"They could. I'm not sure _why_ , but the mob has their reasons." She broke a piece of her burrito and popped it into her mouth.

"Fiinne." Noah groaned, but smiled softly. "You look beautiful, by the way." Anna inspected her clothes, which barely bordered on 'nice'. She wore an outfit that met the criteria of her internship, after all.

"It's just.. pants and a shirt."

"I know." Noah smiled softly. "You look beautiful all the time."

"Just how many romance novels do you read." Anna scoffed.

"The romance novel industry happens to be one of the most profitable of all genres." Noah said, making his mouth small and pretending to be playfully offended.

"Oh god." She laughed, tearing off another piece and devouring it in the same style as the one before it.

"You know, I was thinking.." **Aw hell, here we go.** "Since this morning was so--" he cleared his throat, his body language curling up and showing his shy nature. "uh..nice.. that maybe we should go out sometime. Just the two of us, you know." Anna raised an eyebrow and looked over him.

"No, I don't know. We're doing that right now, aren't we?"

"Well, yeah, but--" Noah tugged at the hair behind his ear. He did this every time he was frustrated. Anna wasn't sure he even knew he did it, but she enjoyed the blatant signal. It kept her from having to guess, and she was terrible at guessing. "I mean, out-out. Not this kind of out, but away from the city as a couple."

"Soo.." Anna tilted her head to the side a little, still with her curious, but unamused, expression. "A vacation?"

"Yes!" Noah re-put his hands on the table and smiled. "See, that's why you're a people detectiv--"

"Forensics."

"Huh?" "I want to go into forensics, Noah." Noah crinkled up his brow in a confused and concerned way.

"So what do I call you?" Anna smirked big, amusing herself by tormenting him just a little bit.

"Detective." Noah gave her an unamused look before grinning and starting to laugh.

"Thanks, give me a heart attack why don't you."

"I think that could be arranged." She smiled. **With the right kind of food or medication.**

"What I mean is," Noah smiled big. "We've been together for almost two years. Yet, we haven't really gone anywhere together."

"Noah--"

"No--now, just.. hear me out on this. I know you're going to say you're busy, and on the brink of your career, and believe me bon-bon I'm super excited for you." **Bon-bon. If I had known the first food he saw me eating was going to follow me around for life I would have picked something with an impossible name so he wouldn't use it. Or at least something that sounds ordinary, like 'sugar pie'.** "I was just thinking that maybe we could.. I don't know, go camping. I know you don't like the whole leaky-tent thing, and it's not that at all. My grandfather gave me his camper and his boat. I mean it's not deluxe, and has some wear-and-tear, but it has its own bathroom and shower and a little kitchen."

"Why'd he do that?"

"He just--you know. He got old, and him and my grandma don't really camp anymore. He said he was going to sell it, but I said that you and I could use it..so." Anna stared back at him. He was pretty cute with just about every expression he made. Even now he was staring at her with big eyes, almost like some baby mouse with a fear of rejection. She on the other-hand, was a black-scaled viper. The life of this little mouse depended on her next action.

"Sure, sounds good to me." Noah relaxed and sighed, smiling big and laughing a little.

"Good! Great! We'll go out next weekend--"

" _If_ nothing comes up. Career first, remember?"

"Yeah! Of course!" Noah continued to be as spiritedly as ever with Anna's agreement, even if it had some small print accompanying it. "It's going to be great! We'll grill and make s'mores, go out on the boat, watch some movies together--"

Anna smiled but faded out as Noah continued to list and gesture, coming up with more and more activities. She occasionally nodded and let out a laugh to make it seem like she was listening, but the same two words began to ring in her head. **Morgan, Dexter. Dexter, Morgan. D-M. I DM? I Dm. Dim, mid, DMI? I wonder how Dexter Morgan spends his weekends. Perhaps he and I are alike? In a relationship where we feel nothing, simply biding our time until death. I wonder if he feels the darkness inside him like I do. If he does, I wonder how he suppresses it. I hope it's not something boring, like collecting.**

"Sorry, I'm just so excited." Noah laughed, realizing how long he had been talking. Luckily, the phrase popped Anna's thought bubble just in time for her to respond.

"No, it's fine." She smiled. "It's cute."

Noah smiled softly and went back to his food, smoothing his fingers through his rather shaggy hair."As long as it makes you happy."

Anna went back to tearing up her burrito but watched Noah as he sunk his fork into some pasta. **As long as it makes you happy. That's been his entire position in this relationship as long as I've known him. He's almost like a servant. I said I'm attracted to men with longer hair, he grows it out. He find out my favorite color is red, he paints his car.** Anna began to think of all the things Noah had done for her at the smallest of inclinations. She once confided that she was tired of cleaning up house after coming home from long days of study, and for the next month Noah had played butler, lover, and cook until she had gotten sick of him constantly shuffling around the house. She couldn't even count all the times she had called him at 3am for nothing more than to use him as a sex toy, and yet five minutes later he stood happily at her doorstep. At one point she had actually called him mid-day, asking him to come over when all she wanted was a foot massage, and even that kind of blatant abuse of the relationship didn't deter him. His thoughtfulness also surprised her many times. Last Christmas he had been dragging her through stores months prior but never buying anything. By the time the day of gift-giving came around, he had carefully wrapped almost everything that had caught her eye. After which, insisted that he required nothing in return from her. She wasn't sure what to get Noah anyway. His family was odd, to say the least. Both sides held a considerable amount of money, but also strict matriarch. Noah was the only son amongst five other siblings, and was constantly pushed into corners as his sisters were spoiled. The only one who seemed to take interest him was his grandfather on his father's side, but even with that limited amount of attention Noah was still able to get anything he desired. From all that she could remember, Noah didn't desire very much. He usually spent hours upon hours sleeping and watching movies around his tiny apartment, since his family's money guaranteed that he didn't have to work. Even then, he had still found temporary employment whenever Anna had mentioned that a lack of ambition was unhealthy.

Noah noticed her stare and looked up, giving her an innocent yet impish smile. "What?"

"Nothing." Anna smiled a little. **What truly am I to you, Noah? A lover? A woman? Or some kind of cruel goddess?**

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>=====================<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Anna had never looked forward to a Monday so much in her life.She had actually taken her car to work this morning and parked accordingly, something she had cleared with LaGuerta to make sure she was at the bottom of the list when it came to hindrances. She got out of her car and examined it. She was never good at making sure it went through a wash. At one point she had neglected it for so long, the black paint began to look gray. She had read once that a black car is the most inconspicuous of all colors, but it had it's downsides for sure. In the Miami heat, it turned her leather interior into a crematorium, for example. Secondly, it was simply not her desired color, and thirdly, the black paint had it's ways of reminding her of just how uncaring she could be. The black paint was almost a motherly reminder to not forget her lunchbox, and play nice.

" _Buenos dias_!" Anna looked up to see the man with the goatee and the colorful shirts parking only a few spaces away from her. Today's shirt contained a pattern of different brown hues. **Doakes could really take a page out of this guy's book. That way he wouldn't be walking around with that pitiful half-stache that looks like the eyebrows of someone with trichotillomania.**

" _Buenos Dias_!" Anna answered, smiling big and waving a little in his direction. He began to walk toward her on his way to the building.

"Your accent is very good, do you speak?" The man smiled and stopped a few paces from her, giving her the invitation to walk with him. Anna caught up with him and the two began to approach the building together.

"I used to when I was younger, but my non-spanish grandparents didn't really approve of it. As I grew up I forgot almost everything about how to speak it, but I can understand it when it's spoken. Or, well, spoken a little slower." She smiled a little and laughed.

"Well good. Being able to understand it is going to help you with a lot of cases. We work with a lot of people. A lot of them can't speak English very well."

"I can only imagine."

"You're the new girl, right?"

"Intern." Anna nodded and the man held out his hand in the first-step-formation of a handshake. She took his hand firmly and shook it.

"Sorry for not giving you a proper hello. Angel Batista."

"Anna Merritt. Nice to meet you."

"If you have any questions, you can always come find me."

"I appreciate that very much." **She smiled. Angel. How funny. I think hell would freeze over before you'd find an actual angel working in a murder department.** Anna smirked a little to herself, laughing internally at her own awful jokes as the two reached the doors of Miami metro and stepped inside. Once they reached the end of the hallway into the homicide department, Anna found it already abuzz with scrambling employees, a couple of which swarmed Mr. Angel Batista and sent him back the corridor they had just emerged from. Anna found herself severely disappointed. She itched to go out and see murder first hand. It called to her like a child, beckoning her to it. Yet, here she was again on file duty.

"Hey." A distinctive male voice. She remembered it clearly. It was the shorter man that hit on her the night the black set in. She turned to acknowledge him. "Wanna see something sick?"

Anna stared at him, mulling over his offer. "Sick-cool or--?"

"Severed. Head."

Anna smiled almost like she was going to laugh. It may not be fresh and out there in the world, but it was close enough. "Sure."

"Nice." The man smiled and began to walk with Anna following eagerly behind. Nearing the lab, Deb emerged and intercepted her.

"Whoa, and what the hell is going on here?" She smiled, laughing as she led Anna away.

"Aw, c'mon." The man smirked, leaving Anna very confused.

"He was going to show me a severed head." Anna looked to Deb, expecting an explanation.

"Oh, it starts with a severed head, then it turns into a drink, then he shows you his head. And if I'm responsible for you, I'm not going to let you fall for that bullshit." Deb nearly snorted, finding--what Anna could only assume went under the name 'ignorance' or 'naivety'--comical.

"I appreciate it." Anna laughed, but felt a little twinge of anger deep in her stomach. **I really need to flag down this mating cues. That kind of ignorance is how I wound up with Noah, anyway**. "So where is everyone?"

"Apparently we got a Mr. Dumpty who took a great fall off a bridge."

"Sounds like a good time." Anna smiled, and Deb laughed. For some reason, Deb's laughter made Anna painfully aware of how a person's true intent can be misconstrued within a stranger's ears. In this case, Anna meant what she said. She'd love to find "Mr.Dumpty" splattered all over the ground. Think of all the red there would be. The thought made her pulse race--no, it made her Red race. Deb--on the other hand--beautifully innocent and justice-driven Deb, only sees it as a playful party-girl sort of humor.

"Yeah, well, I was planning on having you entertain me and follow me around until the murder troop come back." Deb smiled. "Well, unless you're really hyped about being on file duty. I bet that shit really gets you going." She laughed again.

Anna didn't see the humor in her statement. If anything, she only found the truth in it. She laughed anyway, of course, if anything to feign normalcy while around Deb. She enjoyed Deb. She'd like to think her and Deb would be very similar, if Anna had her color instead of emptiness. "I don't mind following you around. It'd help me wake up." **Speaking of color, Angel Batista.** Anna began to fall back to the depths of her mind as she followed Deb around. Deb kept talking to her, of course, and she smiled and nodded. **He seems open, caring. Yet not innocent, I can feel that in my bones. See it in his eyes. There's an odd darkness about him. Grief? Maybe childhood pain. Whatever it is, it keeps him from being a blue. Green, maybe. Dark green feels perfect.**

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a fucking master at conversation?" Deb smirked at her sarcastically. Anna lost track of how long she had been withdrawn in her own head.

"Uh, well from time to time." Anna smirked back. "Sorry I'm just having...well.."

"Is it dick?"

"What."

"Dick troubles, you need to get laid?"

"I get plenty of dick, thank you. I got dick all this weekend." Anna said matter-of-factly. Her blunt comment made Deb nearly 'haw' like a donkey and crack up.

"Aw man, could have fooled me." Deb laughed, smiling big.

"You know, usually when people point out a 'problem' in a person, they're really pointing it out in themselves." Anna smiled.

"English." Deb smirked.

"Maybe I'm not the one that needs dick, Deb." Anna smirked at her, and Deb's smile turned into a playfully offended face.

"I'll have you know, there IS this guy--"

**Oh god, no. Nooo, no no. 'There's this guy'? That's the Pandora's box of all friendships. Jesus, what have I done? It's just like high school all over again. Those posh slumber parties. Asking me for advice? Asking if I thought he liked her? I barely know how to act like--PEOPLE.**

"His name is--" Deb blindly continued, unknowing the sheer panic that was going on in Anna's mind. Yet, by a stroke of luck, there was a saving grace.

"What are you doing out here?" The bloodhound. As aggravated, as standoffish as ever. "You're supposed to be back helping Figg. She's asking for you."

"Right--I'm sorry, I just--" Anna could have worshiped him on the spot.

"Why don't you back off?" Deb said incredulously. "She's training under me, isn't she? I took her around."

"She trains under you _after_ she gets her file quota done."

Behind her troubled expression, Anna held a smirk. She could feel the storm brewing between the two. Two cases of straight stubborn essence swirling and leaking out of them like water through a strainer. She supposed she should diffuse the situation somehow, of course. "Deb, no, it's fine. The file part is practically the only description my internship had, it should be my priority."

"Well.." Deb looked back at her, allowing Doakes to win the staring contest. "Yeah, sure. But after you get your shit done, you report to me, got it?" Deb put in a authoritative tone at the end as a playful gesture. Anna smiled and let out a small laugh to show--what was it? Appreciation, she supposed.--and headed to the file room hurriedly where she met that familiar kind face, and that gorgeous library of life.

"He hunted you down, didn't he?" Figg half smiled, but held a near scolding motherly tone of disappointment as Anna entered through the half door.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about--"

"Oh! No, no, no, honey. I told that man it wasn't important, I just wanted to know if you arrived. I knew he would get wound up about it, but--" She shook her head a little, not finishing her sentence.

"So, he's a bit..overzealous then? Mean?" Anna headed to the back where her work was already put into surprisingly flimsy cardboard boxes. Figg didn't answer right away, which Anna took as a sign that she'd been correct about the bloodhound, if not given him the benefit of the doubt. She was still surprised on Figg's reply, though, in all it's emotional glory.

"Listen, honey. I am going to tell you something very important." Anna heard Figg's chair turn, signaling she was looking in Anna's direction. Anna looked up to match her gaze, and to give her the attention she deserved. "I have not met a single person in this precinct who is a bad person. Every single one of them are good, even if sometimes they don't act right. And for the longest time, this place has been like a family. Sure, the family is bickering a bit now, but--" Figg paused for a moment, but then continued. "Every family has a way of testing outsiders. To see if they can really belong there. For each person, the test is a little different, you understand?"

Anna thought about what she said, but the insight wasn't very reassuring. Anna didn't appreciate being tested. Her mother used to say, when people are tested, their true colors show. Which wouldn't be a problem, except for the fact that Anna didn't have a color. How do you fake a test of the soul? Surely she could fake who she was on the outside, but anyone who probed enough would find that hollow shell she carried around. She was like a walking suit. "I think so, ma'am.." Anna's hesitation showed, and Figg smiled warmly.

"I know it's hard, especially since Doakes is a bit of a big, tough kind of guy. But let me tell you something, every big, tough guy has the softest heart. They're just real selective of who sees it."

Anna smiled and nodded, and Figg wheeled back to her work. "I understand." Anna muttered to the files before beginning to sort them. She almost felt a little guilty for lying with files in her hands. She got an odd sense of panic, as if her emptiness would seep between the pages and infect their vibrancy. The truth was, Anna didn't understand. **There is something to be said about the human form. It's truly a disgusting thing. At the ends of our being, there are two drives. Sex, for men, and materialism for women. It's in our blood, both science and religion touches on that. Our sins. Standing back for a moment will put that in full view. A man pursues a woman because she is attractive. A man cheats on a woman because he desires many mates. A woman pursues a man she thinks will provide for her. A woman will cheat on a man, or even replace him, if she finds a better provider. That is all there is. There are very few who cheat the system. Usually these consist of, A: A woman who counts on herself as a sole provider, and therefore can pursue men without the need for materialistic expressions. Or B: A man who is disinterested in sex for any reason. Doakes is a ball of Alpha-mating complex trying to keep his females in line if there ever was one. To think there is anything deeper to the human form is ridiculous, and to deny those callings? That is simply asinine**. Anna had decided this a long time ago. It was ugly to most, but to her, it was comforting. People were easier to understand at this level. She occasionally thought how easy life would be for her if everyone finally gave in, became the ugly specimens we all are, and stopped all this half-assed 'interaction' that she had to fake on a daily basis. Yet, on the other hand, the tenacity and stubbornness that people have that allows them to deny that truth, their callings deep inside of them? That was surely beautiful, as well as admirable. Anna continued to work as she receded into her mind. She found herself wondering what Dexter thought of people. She also found herself wrestling with her doubts about him. Maybe she was wrong? What if he's not like her at all? She'd never faced disappointment of that caliber before. She supposed she'd have to keep that 'F' word her mother threw around so much. 'Faith.'

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>=====================<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Anna had reached her second-favorite part of the day. Retrieving and running out the files that lay stacked up outside the library. Though it got her out of the comforting, near mother's-womb, colorful home that the library had become, she appreciated the freedom. It allowed her to keep up on gossip, watch people, learn and analyze. No one ever won a war without taking their environment into consideration. Everything seemed to have settled down since this morning's 'Mister Dumpty'. Everyone was at their desks, filing out, filing in, or drawing up paper work. Yet, there was still a choking smoke of low chatter filling up the room. Something about it felt off, putting Anna on edge. She continued to scan the room and found Doakes, his authoritative doberman like pace had become quicker, more deliberate than usual. She scouted out her pathway to head him off and found Deb twirling a bottle in her hands, talking to the very man Anna has spent almost all her time thus far obsessing over. She clung to the wall and hurriedly snuck to the empty desk around the corner, attempting to look busy. It seemed that Dexter had become the victim of the slumber party-esque conversation. Both he and Deb began discussing arrangements with a man named "Sean." It was an otherwise petty exchange until her ears locked onto the phrase ' _Rita the Girlfriend_.' Anna curved her eyesight to the side of her head, as if that would somehow help her hear better. She started to feel incredibly disappointed, but further confused. It was all in his tone. Though he spoke of very normal things, in a phrase structure that would objectify sincerity, she still felt his voice came up short on the emotional scale. What made this the most troubling is the fact he had a girlfriend. **Women have a distinct need to pry, or to be reassured. For anyone empty, dating a normal woman would be a complete and utter nightmare.** She contorted her face into a symbol of doubt and insecurity just in time to see Doakes' speed past her. Angel rolled out to capture his attention, only to be sharply denied.

" _What crawled up his ass?_ " Anna found herself giggling at Angel's seemingly un-characteristically bold comment on Doakes' actions.

"He hates lab rats." Deb grinned, adding to the sarcasm.

" _Well here's a headline--_ " Angel began, straightening up "It's lab rats that makes _us_ cops look good." He pouted the pout of brotherhood, and made a fist, dumping it towards Dexter who reciprocated it. Anna found herself smiling, but was also loosing hope in her obsession. He seems well adjusted, has friends, a deep relationship with Deb, _he has a girlfriend_ , and he shows no sign of panic. **Maybe his tone is actually a side-affect of him living an incredibly boring, ordinary life. Plus or minus murder.** As terrible and short as Anna's game with Dexter seemed to be, she couldn't help but feel envious of his life in either case. She felt envy for anyone that was normal. It must be a relief to not struggle with society on a constant basis. **A fact they'll never cherish. It's borderline painfully unfair, seeing someone have no appreciation for all you've ever wanted.** Anna paused for a moment. **And with that, I think I may have summed up every break-up song ever written.**

Anna focused her attention on LaGuerta, who looked solemnly hurt.

"Alright, listen up!" She became more distressed as everyone focused on her. "We just got an I.D. on the body from under the causeway. His name is Ricky Simmons. He was a cop." There was a strong, invisible string of knives attached to the tail of her sentence. You could see a knife permeate each person in the room one by one. Anna tried to take cues from the room and looked sullen herself, but all she could really take in where Figg's words of the department being a "family". Though 'Humpty Dumpty' had a name, that isn't what seemed to affect people, it was the fact he was an officer. Anna was unsure of what made up these family ties. She had to assume that it was respect for the most part, or perhaps all the departments had worked together at one time or another, creating a sense of a sibling-type closeness for all employees. Soon, the main authorities left to resume work, and the rest began to do the same. Anna began to organize the files in her hands, when a hand on her shoulder spooked her. She was pulled backwards and focused on regaining balance when Deb began to break the silence.

"On the other hand, look at what LaGuerta ever-so-gracefully awarded me! A lackie!" Deb smiled. "Lackie, this is Dex. My brother. Brother, this is my lackie--Aaahh--" Deb suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Well shit. I totally blanked."

"Anna." She decided to have pity on Deb.

"Right! Shit, so sorry." "It's kind of a day." She smiled, trying to convey understanding, but worried it just made her look constipated.

"It's always a day when you work here." Dexter spoke up, smiling politely in her direction. Anna focused in on his eyes. Their relaxed nature, how he kept a straight brow through every gesture. **My God.** She found herself smiling back at him, trying to not look giddy. **You incredibly blatant faker. To think you had me doubting myself.** She began to feel very at ease as the conversation formed again around her. Someone of her own kind resided here, right on the other side of the wall. She began to focus on every detail of him. His permanently greasy-looking hair, slightly unkempt sideburns, and an oddly shiny complexion, as if he had just finished visiting a sauna five minutes ago and was in the process of still cooling off. It seemed as though he wore a visible veil across his entire body, and Anna knew precisely the reason why.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>=====================<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Anna sat on her couch, twirling her fingers through her hair as she thumbed through, what appeared to be, a department practitioner handbook. At her ankles sat Noah on the floor, rubbing her feet, occasionally staring up at her as she "studied." The truth was, she had begun to weasel her way through the employee time cards. More importantly, Dexter's. **Everyone who's empty has a pattern. That's prevalent through history. A sense of need, of OCD, or pattern that can be nearly painful to stray from.** The challenge was pinpointing Dexter's. She occasionally wrote down connections on her folded, printed-out pages whenever she could find one. It seemed that lunchtime was pretty constant, but with the randomization of being called into the office and out of the office – for example when Doakes and LaGuerta called an emergency this afternoon and that wonderful veil-covered hero had to spring towards his calling, everything had a deviation of perhaps a half-hour window. It was frustrating. She felt like an outsider wolf, desperately trying to join a pack. She wanted to know everything about Dexter, and she wanted to know it now. "Ow!" Anna whined quietly, pulling her foot from Noah.

"I'm trying to pop your toes!" He smiled. "It'll help you relax, trust me."

"You'll pop my toes right out of the socket. I can pop my own toes." She said warningly, but surrendered her foot back to him.

"Weelll~" Noah said in a sing-song voice, "If I break your toes, I'll just have to stay here and take care of you!"

"Have you ever read the book Misery, Noah."

"Can't say that I have."

"Stephen King?"

"Never read Stephen King."

Anna was slightly appalled at his statement, closing her book on her ring finger to save her page.

"Never? Not one thing? Not even Cujo? Not It?"

"I read V.C. Andrews."

"That's not an excuse."

"Is this going to be our first argument??" Noah said in a very overly dramatic voice, trying to look and sound hurt as a joke. "Because I can't take this! It's like I don't even know you anymore!"

"Noah." Anna continued to look unamused. She didn’t like the emotional acts. She could barely read emotion as it is.

"The point is, an author gets into a crash, and a woman saves him, and takes care of him. Except she goes a bit nuts and breaks his legs to keep him there so she can continue to take care of him."

"I don't see the parallel" Noah smirked.

"You do understand I can kick you."

"Maybe I'll call your department and turn you in for domestic violence!"

"Oh my god, Noah!" Anna groaned, resting her head on the couch. It was bad enough he was here unannounced, breaking her pattern, and now all this unnecessary grief? She began to wonder why she kept him around until she felt an odd sensation trailing it's way up her leg. She looked down to find Noah gently kissing his way up, rolling up her pant leg as he did so. "What are you doing?" she smiled a little, holding back a giggle.

"Just worshiping the ground you walk on." He smirked, rubbing his cheek against her knee, playfully cherishing her.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a complete and utter headcase."

"Mostly you." He smiled up at her.

"Then why are you doing what you're doing?" She half-smirked, raising her eyebrows.

"Because you deserve to be treasured as a woman."

"What."

"I treasure you. You look like you had a hard day, and you had a hard day when you worked your first day, so I wanted you to know that I'm grateful for you. I admire you. And I love your leg."

"Who even talks like that." Anna began to laugh.

"I talks like that." Noah smirked playfully.

"I think all you really want is for me to take my pants off." Anna smirked.

"And you don’t? You probably love sex more than I do." Noah smiled sheepishly. **Bold statement from shy Noah.**

"You know what? You're right." Anna grinned, setting her book on the end table and shifting from side to side as she began to wiggle out of her pants.

"I am?" Noah seemed surprised, and nearly blushed.

"You're surprised?" Anna said flatly, removing her pants all the way.

"Well yeah, I thought saying that would actually get me in trouble. I was just rolling with it hoping you'd find it funny."

"Noah." Anna said in a hushed tone, leaning over to rest her arms on his shoulders. "Yes..?" Noah nearly choked out, inching a little closer towards her lips. "Stop talking." She smirked, but gently pulled him by his shoulders, puppeteering him to be so bold as to kiss her of his own accord, and began to relax. **Maybe after this, Dexter's schedule will start to make a little more sense.**


End file.
